?
Thinking of this, Matthew could not help sighing. He shook his head and stopped dwelling on matters far beyond his reach. All he needed to consider was how to break through the Tonigellians' defensive line. The nobles had already taken three or four villages, but had gained little from them. The Tonigellians had withdrawn again and built a defensive line along the southern bank of the Alder River. The nobles had followed them there. Baron Geddem of Blackwater Bay had advanced the fastest; according to the latest reports, he had already captured Emden, not far to the west, and would soon link up with the attacking spearhead from Olta.
"Pick up the pace!" Matthew rubbed his stiff, frozen hands and shouted to his men, "Once you take the manor ahead, do whatever you want. The women and valuables are yours. But move faster, or someone else will get there first!"
The knights answered with a thunderous cheer, but the servant infantry remained numb and indifferent. Those things would never fall into their hands anyway. They trudged forward through the bitter weather—or collapsed somewhere and never got back up—solely because the sharp swords of the knightly masters hung over their heads.
In this mood, the stiff and exhausted soldiers finally reached the shore. The knights first ordered the archers to fire a volley of flaming arrows into the forest, but the weather made it ineffective. The low temperature had made the bowstaves brittle, and the flames were difficult to ignite. The volley snapped many bowstrings, and the rain of arrows had been nothing more than an impressive show.
Matthew did not care. He immediately ordered the infantry to form up and advance into the forest. The Tonigellians' defensive line flickered in and out of sight beyond the manor. The enemy